


they be here

by sharkfish



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dragons, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Castiel and Jimmy Novak are Twins (Supernatural), M/M, Navigating inter-species relationships, Sex is discussed, Trans Character, Trans Dean Winchester, Trans Male Character, Twincest, but it all happens off screen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-12 02:55:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28753242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharkfish/pseuds/sharkfish
Summary: “I’m sorry, man. It seems like every species has some sort of awful biological bullshit to deal with.”“What’s yours?” Jimmy says.Dean realizes he’s fishing, because they’ve never really talked about it, other than the discussion about Jimmy and Cas’s relationship. Jimmy’s horns are a giveaway, but it’s generally impolite to ask. Dean says, “I’m a halfie, so I can’t shift, but I do get to have a generally not-awesome full moon.”
Relationships: Castiel/Jimmy Novak (Supernatural), Castiel/Jimmy Novak/Dean Winchester, Jimmy Novak/Dean Winchester
Comments: 25
Kudos: 143





	they be here

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to oriana for cheerleading & mistakes-catching and to vulgarlang.com for helping me play with dragon language. 
> 
> **"We know that There Be Dragons Everywhere. They might not all have scales and forked tongues, but they Be Here all right, grinning and jostling and trying to sell you souvenirs."**  
>  terry pratchett

Dean’s early to pick Jimmy up, and he hesitates a moment as he pulls into the driveway. He’s nervous and almost wants to sit here in his car until he’s not so early, but Jimmy probably heard him arrive and would make fun of him until the end of time if he does. 

This is the first time Dean’s been to Jimmy’s place, and he glances at the flowerbeds in the front yard. He knows Jimmy well enough to know that it isn’t his work. 

They’re not actually boyfriends and it’s way too soon for meeting family, but Dean has started wondering what a boyfriend talk would look like. Wondered about meeting Jimmy’s brother — Jimmy’s _mate._ Dean takes a deep breath and knocks. 

Jimmy answers in a rush of balmy air and it’s the first time he hasn’t smiled as soon as he sees Dean. “Fucking shit, I’m so sorry. Cas just got home and he’s sick and I didn’t get to text you yet and — ugh. I need to stay here tonight.” 

“Ok,” Dean says, trying to tamp down his disappointment. “What kind of sick? If that’s not too nosy.” 

“Oh. It’s a —” Jimmy gestures vaguely towards his horns “— thing.”

“If chicken noodle is for the flu, then what soup cures ‘dragon thing’?” 

Jimmy drops his face into his hands, laughing. “You’re an asshole.” 

Dean leans his shoulder against the door frame, grinning. “Hey, I’m trying to do something nice here.” 

“Jay?” 

Dean glances over Jimmy’s shoulder, and there’s a version of him in boxers in the background, except this one is mostly covered in burns ranging from _bad sunburn_ to _hand held down on a hot stove_. Dean knows what that kind of burn looks like. 

Cas’s eyes meet Dean’s and widen before he rushes back out of sight. “Oh, uh,” Jimmy says, glancing over his shoulder at where Cas was standing, then back at Dean. “That’s fine. He’s fine. But you need to go. I’ll text you, ok? I swear. I’m not blowing you off.” 

Dean takes a couple of quick steps back to keep from having the door shut in his face. He walks to his car but sits for a moment before starting the engine, then picks up his phone to text Jimmy. 

**Dean:** What kind of soup? 

Dean is almost home before there’s a reply. 

**Jimmy:** For him, French toast. Which isn’t a soup  
**Jimmy:** But I assure you that’s the cure for Dragon Thing 

**Dean:** I can cook fucking awesome French toast in your kitchen or I can order pretty good French toast to be delivered. Take your pick

Long minutes. 

**Jimmy:** Dude come on. You don’t want to come over here while Cas is turning into Deadpool in the other room 

**Dean:** Dude come on I like Deadpool. But if you insist I can have Kerbey’s delivered, what do you guys want? 

**Jimmy:** Cas says he’ll kill me if I stop you from making him fucking awesome French toast. I’m too young to die :( 

**Dean:** On my way back :) 

This time Jimmy smiles at Dean like usual when he opens the door. “Hey hottie,” Jimmy says, then backs up to usher Dean inside. “I should’ve warned you that it’s probably really hot in here by your standards. Usually I’d turn it down, but not when Cas is Deadpooling.” 

“Naked chef,” Dean suggests, following Jimmy deeper into the house. 

The tv is on, volume low, playing some home renovation show. There’s a mess of blankets and pillows in front of the couch, something like a nest, rumpled in a spot the size of two bodies but empty. The house is an open floor plan and Dean goes immediately to the kitchen, dropping his bag of goodies on the island counter. 

“If you sent Cas away on my behalf, you don’t have to do that,” Dean says. “This is his place too.” 

“He’s upset, because he didn’t want you to meet him looking like that.” 

Jimmy bends over to dig pans out of a lower cabinet, and Dean’s momentarily distracted staring at the shimmering purple scales over his spine, visible where his shirt has ridden up. Dean wonders what they would feel like under his hands, under his mouth. He’s suddenly achingly aware that he hasn’t gotten the chance to undress Jimmy yet. 

Dean is silent too long and gets caught staring. Jimmy gives him a cheeky grin and crowds him against the counter. Dean does his best not to swoon as Jimmy’s smile softens and he kisses him, not dirty but affectionate. 

“Tell him it’s ok,” Dean says. “I mean, it’s not like I don’t know what his regular face looks like.” 

“It’s a pretty good one, too.” Another quick kiss, and then Jimmy backs away so Dean can arrange his ingredients on the kitchen island neatly in order. “That’s freakish,” Jimmy says, “but you brought bacon so you’re forgiven.” 

“You gonna help or just stand in the way?” 

“I was going to tell Cas he can continue with his Chip Gaines love affair except —” His voice wavers into uncertainty, something entirely unfamiliar to Dean. “Are you sure you’re ok with — the other dragon thing. Me and him.” 

“Babe, we’ve discussed the hell out of this. A-ok. And if he wants to sit there and pretend I’m not here because he doesn’t feel well, I’m ok with that. I will find a way to have my date tonight, dammit.” 

Jimmy laughs, which is a much better look on him than unsure, walking across an ice rink. “I appreciate your perseverance. Be back in a minute.” 

Dean thinks he might end up with heatstroke after standing in front of the stove, but it’ll be worth it. He’s pretty sure Jimmy’s worth it, so Cas has to be, too. 

“PG-13 nudity warning!” Jimmy calls as he and Cas come down the hall and into the living room-slash-kitchen, Jimmy’s steps almost buoyant as usual and Cas’s more of a shuffle. 

Cas is in nothing but boxers still and he doesn’t meet Dean’s eye as they enter, but he does say through cracked lips, “Hello. I’m sorry our first meeting was during molting. It must be quite a shock.” 

“I’ve seen weirder,” Dean says, aiming a smile Cas’s way in case he does glance up. “Does it hurt?” 

Cas does raise his eyes, and he and Jimmy give Dean identical looks that he can’t read. Something that might be a smile flits across Cas’s mouth and he says, “Sometimes.” 

“I’m sorry, man. It seems like every species has some sort of awful biological bullshit to deal with.” 

Jimmy leans against the kitchen island, on the other side from Dean. Cas hesitates, but Dean gives him a nod and he sits at the stool next to Jimmy. Dean wonders how truthful “sometimes” is, because up close the burns look even worse. Dean generally has a high tolerance for pain, but he would be complaining like a motherfucker all the way until these healed. 

“What’s yours?” Jimmy says. 

Dean realizes he’s fishing, because they’ve never really talked about it, other than the discussion about Jimmy and Cas’s relationship. Jimmy’s horns are a giveaway, but it’s generally impolite to ask. Dean flips the bacon, then turns to grin at him and Cas. “I’m a halfie, so I can’t shift, but I do get to have a generally not-awesome full moon.” 

“I believe I’ll owe you some version of soup,” Cas says. 

The overhead light catches the sheen of one of the scales scattered over Cas’s cheek that’s not covered by sores. Obsidian. Like asphalt after a rain on a long road trip, windows down and tunes blasting. 

Dean turns away to put on the toast. “Nothing like a good burger on a full moon.” 

“We don’t cook, but we’re super good at Grubhub,” Jimmy says, circling around the island to come up behind Dean, wrap his arms around Dean’s stomach and nose at the back of his neck. Goosebumps scatter down Dean’s arms, the soft touch lighting something up inside him. It’s been a long time since he was touched like this. 

Except — Dean looks over, and Cas’s eyes are averted. There’s a pang of panic in Dean’s throat and he steps out of Jimmy’s arms. He feels like he should apologize to someone, but he’s not sure who. Jimmy, who’s wearing a little half-frown since Dean pulled away, or Cas, who looks like a thousand words of discomfort because some random asshole is touching his mate. 

“Sorry,” Dean says, to either or both of them. 

“For what?” Jimmy and Cas say at the same time. Cas’s voice is deeper, rougher, while Jimmy’s is light and clear. 

“I just — uh. Not really sure how to handle…” Dean glances between the two of them. 

“Oh,” Jimmy says, surprised. “You think Cas is going to be pissed if you touch me in front of him.” 

“I’m not,” Cas says. “Truly. Have sex on the floor right now if you’d like. Just keep it down so I can watch Fixer Upper.” 

Dean coughs, chokes, and then laughs. The stupid thing is that he’s a grown ass man with a couple dozen knotches in his bedpost, blushing hotly at the mention of sex with Jimmy. Dean’s perfectly happy taking it slow, but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t thought about it. Vividly. More than once. And then had to buy more lube on Amazon. 

“Bacon’s getting a little crispy there, stud,” Jimmy says. 

Dean rolls his eyes and serves up dragon thing soup. 

Dean’s told himself that he’ll go to bed once he finishes this chapter, for real this time, but before he gets there, a message pops up. 

**Jimmy:** Thank you. 

Dean bites his lip, trying to decide what the brevity of it might mean. Then dots pop up. It’s bad. Dean can’t believe how intrusive he had been. But maybe it’s fixable. 

**Jimmy:** That’s not enough. Like, there just aren’t words in this stupid language to properly tell you how thankful I am. In Meekiimle the word is d’îîtdoovdawaw  
**Jimmy:** Cas is asleep and he almost never sleeps during molt 

**Dean:** Soup is magic I’m telling you

 **Jimmy:** D’îîtdoovdawaw. Maybe we can get together this weekend? 

Jimmy is fucking hot. He always is, but for some reason Dean’s stunned the same way he was on their first date when he opens his door. He thinks Jimmy’s hair looks like it would if Dean had buried his hands in it while Jimmy was going down on him. He thinks the scales along Jimmy’s jaw change color sometimes, just slightly, and he wonders what it means. 

“Hey there,” Jimmy says with a big smile. “Whatever you’re cooking smells amazing.”

“Hey yourself, and thank you. It’ll be ready in ten so there’s time for a very short tour.” 

A very short tour, and then kissing against the kitchen counter until the timer goes off. Jimmy’s mouth is kiss-flushed when they pull apart and Dean wants to say, _Fuck the pasta, let me take you to bed._ He doesn’t. 

It’s so easy with Jimmy, and that makes Dean nervous as hell. Dean can play a charismatic version of himself to slip into any group, but it’s much rarer to show someone the man behind the curtain. Jimmy showed up, ignored the wizard, and ripped open the curtain right away. Dean’s not used to feeling so unsteady and exhilarated at the same time. 

“So,” Jimmy says as they have post-dinner beers on the couch. “Werewolf.” 

Dean knew Jimmy would ask. Dean flashes a sharp-toothed grin and says, “Half.”

“The handsome half, I can see.” 

“Dad was human.” 

“I’m sorry,” Jimmy says, resting his hand on Dean’s knee. “That was rude as fuck. I’m just curious.”

“About wolves?” 

“No. About you,” Jimmy says. Now he’s walking two fingers along the top of Dean’s thigh. “I like you. I want to know everything.” 

“What if I want to know about you first?” 

Jimmy laughs and it’s sweet as sugar. “What if I wanted to kiss you?” 

“I think we’re at the stage where you don’t have to ask anymore,” Dean says. 

“Well, in that case.” Jimmy flings himself at Dean and they wrestle, laughing, and only by the miracle of Dean’s needs for extra large and soft furniture do they not end up on the floor with bruised tailbones. 

Jimmy ends up on top of Dean, smiling at him. Dean smiles back. It’s a quiet moment, and then Jimmy leans down to kiss him. 

It’s a good, good kiss. Unhurried, aimless exploratory touches as their tongues slide against each other. Jimmy is hard but Dean holds back, burying his hand in the hair at the base of Jimmy’s horns instead. And then Jimmy pulls away. “Fuck, sorry. I swear I didn’t expect this to be the sex date.” 

“I know,” is all Dean figures out to say. His brain knows that Jimmy can kiss him and grind on him like that without it going anywhere, and his brain doesn’t want Jimmy to think he’s not willing to wait. His body, however, is an idiot. 

“I swear I’m not trying to pressure you. Please tell me if I’ve gone too —”

“What?” Dean interrupts. 

“Um, you know.” Jimmy fidgets his fingers against his own thighs. “Taking it slow. Because...”

Dean blinks. “Do you think I want to _wait_ to dance the horizontal tango with you? Because I’m trans?” 

“That is a fucking ridiculous thing to say,” Jimmy says, his head tilted back in a laugh, no more fidgeting. “But, yeah. Don’t you? I know I’m kinda ignorant sometimes. ” 

“Don’t _you_ want to wait?”

“No?”

“But I thought dragons —” 

“Oh my god.” Jimmy grabs a throw pillow and hits Dean in the face with it. “Don’t just make assumptions about stuff because you’re too scared to ask, moron.” 

Jimmy says _moron_ like a term of endearment. “Ok, ok,” Dean says, throwing the pillow across the room. “Lesson learned for both of us. To be clear, you don’t want to wait 87 years before consummating a relationship?” 

“Dean, I would’ve consummated with you on our first date in the middle of the damn coffee shop.” 

“You’re awesome, you know that?” Dean says with a grin, reaching for Jimmy again. 

“Yeah, I’ve been told.” 

Jimmy’s smile is addictive, but so is the way Dean’s nerves light up, just from his hand sliding up Dean’s side, the fabric of his binder still between them. Dean licks his lips. 

Jimmy leans down, leaving a kiss on his cheek before murmuring against his ear, “Have you thought about me?” 

Dean’s breath catches. It’s embarrassing, the way Jimmy is winding him up so quickly and efficiently. He breathes out, “Yeah.” 

“What do you think about?” 

“I think about your cock.” Dean tilts his chin to bare his throat for Jimmy’s kisses. “What it would feel like in my mouth or — my ass.” 

“Mm, tell me more.” 

One of Jimmy’s horns brushes against Dean’s jaw. It’s hard and smooth like marble and Dean wants to touch, but hesitates. “Is it ok if I touch your horns?” 

Dean can feel Jimmy’s smile against his neck. “You can touch me literally anywhere except my belly button. Hard limit.” 

“How the hell can you be so sexy and so weird at the same time?” Dean says, trying to choke down a laugh. “Jesus.” 

“I think I learned from Cas,” Jimmy says, raising his head to show Dean his smile now, too. His fingertips brush over one of Dean’s nipples, which is a good distraction from the image that flashed across Dean’s brain of Jimmy and Cas in bed together, laughing and moaning in turn. 

“I thought about eating you out,” Dean says. “Wondered if you like it.” 

“I do. Continue.” 

“Right this second I’m thinking we should move to my bed.” 

Jimmy rolls his eyes and climbs off of Dean. Dean’s mouth goes dry at the sight of Jimmy’s cock, hard under his jeans. Dean grabs his hand and pulls him down the hall to his bedroom, and something ignites when they cross the threshold into his room, because suddenly Jimmy is jerking him forward and starting to undress him. 

Dean’s belt cracks as it snakes out of the loops on his jeans. Dean reaches for Jimmy’s, already has his hand on leather when Jimmy says, “Wait.” Dean pulls his hands away, feeling an urge to apologize without knowing why. “I might have more scales than you expect.” 

“Oh,” Dean says. 

Jimmy’s eyes drop. “I just don’t want you to — you know, freak out. Because you didn’t realize.”

“Sweetheart, I grew up with wolves. It’s difficult to freak me out.” 

“Cool,” Jimmy says with a smirk. He’s the only person Dean knows who comes even close to pulling off a _smirk._

Jimmy tugs pushes Dean’s boxers down his hips, tugs his binder over his head. Suddenly he’s completely naked and Jimmy is completely clothed. It makes something tingle in Dean’s hands. He says, long-suffering, “Please take your clothes off.”

Jimmy shrugs out of his hoodie and pulls his t-shirt over his head — it has the logo of a local baseball team and Dean meant to bring it up all night — and he was right, Dean had not expected this amount of scales. Cas had been shirtless when they met, but the molting was so bad that it wasn’t clear if scales or skin was underneath, so Dean just expected a light smattering of them like the ones that dance along the lines of one of Jimmy’s cheekbones and one side of his jaw. 

In reality, while it’s nowhere near _Shape of Water_ scales, it is large, rich splashes of rorschach inkblots in a purple shimmer that changes based on the way the light hits, and Dean wants to put his mouth all over them. 

Dean wiggles onto the bed and Jimmy follows, his mouth on Dean’s as soon as they’re mostly still. Dean glides one of his palms up the curve of a horn, witch black except for the silver tips to match the earring that spirals down the edge of Jimmy’s ear. 

“So what exactly,” Jimmy says in between kisses, “were you thinking about for tonight?” 

“I already told you my thoughts, so it’s your turn.” 

Jimmy rolls his eyes and pinches Dean’s nipple, hard enough for a delicious hurt. “Well, when I’m taking long showers that are eventually going to kill me because I come so hard my knees go weak, I would think that I would want to go down on you while fingering you first. I want to see you all wound up before I fuck you.” 

Dean’s heart is pounding. “Your plan is much better than mine, whatever it was.” 

“I appreciate that we’re creating an itinerary for our first time doing the horizontal tango together.” 

“If not the first time, then when?” Dean moves closer. “That was a rhetorical question. Shut up and get to work.” 

“Dean, this is my mate, Cas; Cas, this is my boyfriend, Dean.” Jimmy presents them to each other across the threshold of Dean’s front door with a flourish. 

Dean and Cas both roll their eyes, then Cas gives him a small smile. “It’s nice to meet you when I’m not in significant pain,” Cas says. 

“I’ll try to be slightly less terrified this time,” Dean says, him and Cas trailing behind Jimmy, who makes a beeline towards the kitchen. Dean thinks Jimmy is probably the only person alive who has a better spidey-sense and nose for baked goods than he does. And yes, Dean made them cookies. Probably too many. 

“Homemade,” Cas says, with at least a bit of surprise, when they find Jimmy with one already half eaten in his hand. 

“Do you plan on saying hello?” Dean asks Jimmy. 

“I’m saying hello to the cookies.” He takes another bite. “Ok, I’m ready. Osho, Dean, light of my life, who should know that cookies come first.” 

“Cookies come first,” Cas agrees. 

Dean gives Jimmy a brief squeeze around the middle and then a brief kiss to his temple. “Osho, Jimmy, who I just found out is my boyfriend.” 

Cas snorts, and Jimmy rolls his eyes and says, “Did you think we were pen pals?” 

“No, I thought —” Dean’s eyes flicker to Cas, because it feels wrong to talk about this in front of him for more than one reason. Cas is watching, mostly with a soft curiosity, but it doesn’t take a shotgun talk to know Cas would do anything to protect Jimmy. “I thought I wanted to be your boyfriend, but was still too chickenshit to ask.” 

Jimmy moves closer to Dean and kisses him. Closer than is polite with an audience, kiss too long and too full. “Well, you can stop wanting and thinking about that now. Now’s the time you start thinking and wanting to get the hell _out_ of being my boyfriend.” 

There’s movement out of the corner of his eye and Dean looks over to see Cas leaving the room. “Don’t worry,” Jimmy says as the sliding glass door opens. “He’s just cold. And probably awkwardly trying to give us a minute alone.” 

“Oh, shit,” Dean says. “I should’ve turned off the A/C —” 

“It’s fine,” Jimmy says, tightening his hand around Dean’s bicep before he thinks about escaping. “Why were you terrified when you came to our place?” 

“Well,” Dean says, dodging his eyes to the side. “I’m really into you, and I don’t even have a chance if I can’t impress Cas.” 

“Well,” Jimmy says back. Dean can hear him smiling. “I’m really into you too, and Cas would need a really good lawyer to convince me to stop seeing you. ‘If the glove doesn’t fit’ kind of lawyer.” 

Dean looks at him. He’s disgustingly handsome, and Dean can’t wait to take his clothes off later. “Let’s go outside. I forgot to turn off the A/C, but I did decide to grill so we can hang out on the porch.” 

Jimmy kisses him, suddenly. “A really, really good lawyer,” he whispers, then leaves the kitchen, wiggling his ass at Dean as he goes.

Dean rolls his eyes, but some part of him that’s still fourteen with a huge crush echoes in his mind, _Boyfriend._

Plates on the table, and Cas says, “Jimmy never listens to anything I say, so if you’re worrying that you have to get my approval, you don’t.” Cas looks at the hummingbird feeder in Dean’s yard. “Not that I don’t approve.”

Cas has a trail of black scales down his neck, and Dean imagines — no, he doesn’t imagine. He smiles at Jimmy instead, because Jimmy is lovely in the evening night and his voice is as smooth as dark silk. 

Jimmy goes in for cookies and more beers, which is just as transparent as Cas’s exit for Dean and Jimmy’s privacy before dinner. “I do approve,” Cas says. “You’re wonderful and bring a lot of joy to him. Thank you.” 

Dean wonders what the Meekiimle word is for the type of _you’re welcome_ that corresponds with _d’îîtdoovdawaw._ Some day he’ll ask. “Don’t tell him I said this, but he’s the best thing that’s happened to me in a long, long time.” 

Cas smiles. It’s not the same open-arms smile Jimmy has — it’s more reserved, more elusive. “I won’t tell him, but you should. He gets anxious sometimes.” 

“I will,” Dean says. 

Jimmy and Cas stay too late, but miraculously there are still cookies to send home with them. Dean wakes up early anyway the next day anyway because his body is determined to keep him from sleeping past seven, even on weekends. 

He has a couple of cookies for breakfast. He starts laundry and does the dishes like a goddamn adult. He lays out on the couch with a book and the tv murmuring in the background. 

His phone _zzzs_ on the coffee table, and just seeing Jimmy’s name puts a stupid smile on his face. 

**Jimmy:** Can I come over when you wake up? I need to ravish you. 

**Dean:** I’m up and ready to be ravished

Jimmy doesn’t even bother to knock, like he’s sure Dean already unlocked the door for him. Which Dean did. 

“Living room,” Dean calls to him, and a moment later Jimmy is in front of him, glimmering amethyst. 

“Hey,” Dean says, trying to play it cool despite his racing pulse. 

“Hey yourself,” Jimmy says with a smile. He sits next to Dean and pulls him into a kiss, not a ravishing one but a sweet Sunday morning one. “I didn’t come here just to ask this, but as a pre-afterthought, why don’t you ever ask me to stay over?” 

“Uh,” Dean says. “I didn’t think you would want to, with a mate at home. Which is fine, seriously. But I just figured that’s something for him.” 

Jimmy frowns. It startles Dean a little bit, because Jimmy is rarely so serious. “Dean, this isn’t a custody arrangement. There’s not a list somewhere splitting up who gets what.” 

“That’s good, since I haven’t received one.” Dean offers an apologetic smile for being a moron, and Jimmy gives half a smile back. It looks more like a Cas expression than a Jimmy one, but there’s probably not a list splitting expressions up either. 

Dean sits up, which puts him eye to eye with Jimmy. More importantly, now their mouths are on the same level, too, and Jimmy meets him in the middle for a kiss. “Is that why you never come to my place?” Jimmy asks. “Because you thought it was a den for just me and my mate?” 

“Jay, I’m not going to kick Cas out of his own bed.” 

Jimmy rolls his eyes. “I have my own room too, you dork. Where I bring all my other hot half-werewolf boyfriends since you won’t come over. You’re missing out.”

“Well. You can’t stay tonight, because I have that meeting in the morning and I know you’ll keep me up all night.” 

“I’ll be able to keep you up much later when I don’t have to drive home. And you get to cuddle me. You’re going to have a great time.” 

“I imagine that’s a sacrifice for you.” 

There’s a smile in Jimmy’s eyes as he’s drawn to Dean, murmuring, “We’ve been talking too long,” before kissing him again. This isn’t a quiet morning kiss. It’s a preview kiss, a _more is coming_ kiss. 

Dean forces himself to jerk himself away. “Bed, or someone’s going to get rugburn again.” 

“Yeah, and that someone will never stop whining about it,” Jimmy grumbles as he leads the way into Dean’s room. 

Sometimes Dean wonders how much other people can smell. It’s difficult to describe or even measure to compare, so he doesn’t know if Jimmy knows his scent is sinking into Dean’s house like a good perfume clinging to clothing, that other wolves would know how much time Jimmy spends here and maybe even how Dean feels about him. With Jimmy spread out naked underneath Dean, the scent of him and his arousal is so thick as to almost taste it. 

Even though Jimmy promised the ravishing, it’s Dean that takes forever touching every scale, every bare patch of skin, with mouth and hands. Jimmy breathes fire-hot when he comes, knees tightening against Dean’s sides. 

Still lounging in bed, Dean tracing each of Jimmy’s scales with his fingertip, Jimmy says, “Cas is worried you don’t like him.” 

“What?” Dean says, looking up. “I’m the one worried that _he_ doesn’t like _me.”_

“Well. Sometimes I worry too, that — well. That you don’t like me the same way that I like you.” There’s a moment of silence, and then Jimmy groans. “I wish that hadn’t come out like I’m still in middle school.” 

“You need to clarify which way you like me,” Dean says, telling his heart to remain steady. _I need to ravish you._ Is that all this is to Jimmy? Casual boyfriends who ravish each other mid-morning on a Sunday? For some reason that hadn’t occurred to Dean until now. He would’ve known, right? 

He realizes he’s working himself up into a gasping mess when Jimmy squeezes his hand and presses a kiss to his forehead. “I like you like — I want to take you home, keep you in bed all weekend. Not just fucking, because that would be exhausting. Netflix and take-out or whatever.”

“You’re the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time,” Dean says in a rush, because Cas told him to. 

Jimmy’s eyes widen and his lips part in soft surprise. “Oh,” he says, barely a breath. “I thought — I don’t know what I thought. Just not that.” 

Dean pushes himself up on an elbow so he can kiss Jimmy. “I just thought you should know. That’s the way I like you, like you’re the best thing.” 

“Best thing ever?” Jimmy says with a wiggle of his eyebrows and a grin. 

“Well, there is pie, and Baby, and burgers, and —” 

“Basically the world of food and cars is better than me. Got it.” Jimmy runs his hand through Dean’s hair and says, “You’re right. There are definitely desserts I like better than you. And good sushi? Mmm. Beats out hot wolf boyfriend every time.” 

“Hey, fuck you,” Dean says, laughing. 

Jimmy laughs along, and somehow it’s only the first time this thought has occurred to Dean, but he wonders if Jimmy wishes Cas were with them. 

**Jimmy:** Full moon next week, yeah? 

**Dean:** Yup 

**Jimmy:** Do you prefer to be alone…? I know details aren’t really my business but if I can help or just hang out or whatever

 **Dean:** As the boyfriend, I think it probably is your business.  
**Dean:** I just usually feel pretty shitty  
**Dean:** And mean sometimes. So you should stay away

 **Jimmy:** Mean how? 

**Dean:** Wolves are dangerous during the full moon but I’m just a huge asshole

 **Jimmy:** Me n Cas owe you a burger if you want to be mean to us 

“Jay, I’m serious,” Dean says, as soon as Jimmy answers the phone. “Any time someone has been around for the moon, they leave, ok? I — don’t want to lose you just because I turn into a dog-brained idiot once a month.” 

Jimmy snorts. “Honestly, I can’t even imagine you being mean. Asshole, maybe, but not _mean.”_

“What’s the worst thing I could say to you?” Dean says, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

There’s a pause, and he doesn’t think Jimmy will answer. “That you hate Cas.” 

“Uh.” Hating Cas is so far off of Dean’s radar that he hadn’t even considered it. “Well. I don’t hate him. So. I wouldn’t say that.” 

“Then I guess we’re golden.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Absofuckinglutely. Burgers and Firefly? Cas is a loser and still hasn’t finished.” 

Dean huffs out a laugh. “I can’t say I hate him, but you can say he’s a loser?” 

“He’s my mate _and_ my twin, so I can say whatever I want about him without repercussions.” 

“If — if I need to, I’ll tell you to leave. Ok?” 

“Babe, of course.” 

“You guys better show up with burgers.” 

“As promised.” 

Dean smiles, tentatively. “You’re awesome, you know that?” 

“Yup. Cas says hi, by the way.” 

“Put me on speaker so I can say hi back myself.” 

“You’re a doofus,” Jimmy says, going echo-y the way people do on speakerphone. 

“Hey, Cas,” Dean says. 

“Hello, Dean.” 

Dean doesn’t hate Cas, because Cas’s voice makes him smile immediately the same way Jimmy’s does. “How you doin’?” 

“We’re about to order dinner. Would you like to join us?” 

“Hell yeah. Lemme put on some pants and I’m on my way.” 

“Oooh,” Jimmy says. “Pants def not required.” 

“For you, maybe. I’m sure Cas isn’t interested in that.” 

Jimmy snorts. “Sure. See you in a bit.” 

Dean’s head is pounding and he feels like he’s covered in hives and he can’t figure out if he’s hot or cold or both and he feels so shitty he didn’t even remember to cancel with Jimmy and Cas. The first thing he says when he opens the door is, “Dude, don’t even bother. Go eat your burgers somewhere else.” 

“Nope,” Jimmy says, shoving his way into Dean’s place. The smell wafting from the bag of food he’s holding makes Dean instantly ravenous. 

“Hi,” Cas says, smiling like he’s apologizing for Jimmy, which he’s probably done their whole life. 

“Hey,” Dean says, squeezing his shoulder as he ushers him inside. 

Jimmy is already on the couch, sorting out the food. “Cas loves Top Chef,” he says, nodding towards Dean’s tv. “I’ve endured this season like three times. I hate that fucking foam guy.” 

“He’s good entertainment, though,” Dean says, collapsing next to Jimmy in the middle of the couch. Full moon means he almost snaps at Jimmy for taking Dean’s usual seat, but he — literally — bites his tongue. 

Before Cas can sit, Jimmy says, “Baby, grab us some beers?” 

“Not me,” Dean says. “Sticking with Coke tonight.” 

“Do you mind?” Cas asks, weirdly solemn. 

“Go for it. I’m used to y’all drinking me out of house and home.” Dean tacks a smile on at the end because he really doesn’t mind — there’s nothing better than having the kind of people who help themselves to your fridge in your life, and Dean doesn’t have enough of them. 

Dean digs into the burger Jimmy hands him without pause, not even caring about ugly eating as he devours half of it before Jimmy and Cas even make it a few bites into theirs. 

“Well,” Cas says, “it seems the moon makes you very hungry.” 

“Good thing I got an extra one for you,” Jimmy says, putting a second burger in front of Dean. “It was Cas’s idea.” 

Mouth full, Dean looks at Cas and says, “Marry me.” 

Strangely, Cas blushes, but he just says, “That’s disgusting. Were you raised in a barn?” 

“Chevy Impala,” Dean says around another bite. “This bacon is amazing, Jesus.” 

“Literally?” Jimmy says. “You literally lived in your car when you were a kid?” 

Dean shrugs. “Sometimes. It wasn’t a big deal.” 

Jimmy opens his mouth, then shuts it again, scowling across Dean at Cas. After three more fries he says, “Firefly, or am I stuck with Foam Fucker and Wine Douche?” 

Usually Dean is antsy and pacing on full moons, but something about good food and sitting between the warmth of mates has him drowsy and wanting to curl up, nose to tail — because even though he can’t shift, sometimes he can still feel a wolf inside him — with someone he loves. 

Which only half explains how he finds himself dozing with his head on Cas’s thigh, Cas petting his hand through Dean’s hair. Distantly, he hears Jimmy murmuring with a teasing lilt to his voice, “How’s it feel to have all your dreams come true?” 

Cas shushes Jimmy, and Dean blinks his eyes open. It’s really nice, head pillowed on Cas’s lap and feet in Jimmy’s, Cas’s hand in his hair and Jimmy’s resting on his hip, tucked under his t-shirt. 

“Sorry,” Dean says, hoarse. “Reverted to wolf cuddle pile.” 

“This is hardly cuddling,” Jimmy says. “We could show you _real_ cuddling.” 

Dean huffs a laugh. “Watch out and I’ll take you up on it.” 

“Oh yeah?” Jimmy says, using the mischievous tone Dean loves but knows not to trust. Before Dean can process, Jimmy is clambering on top of him, all elbows and knees and heavy weight. 

Dean _oofs_ and Cas laughs while Jimmy starts raining kisses on Dean’s face and neck. “This isn’t cuddling, this is an attack,” Dean says, trying to shake him off. 

Jimmy plants a smacking kiss on Dean’s cheek and says, “Cas is way nicer than me.” 

“I’ve noticed,” Dean says, grinning up at Cas. 

Jimmy lands another smooch more on Dean’s chin than mouth. “He even kisses nicer.” 

Dean blushes and tries not to look back at Cas, but of course he does, and doesn’t really know what to think about Cas glaring daggers at Jimmy. Jimmy’s smile softens, and he gives Dean a real kiss, sweet and lingering, and then whispers conspiratorially, “Feel free to give him a test drive.” 

Dean laughs, like he hasn’t been thinking about it more and more — Cas’s mouth against his, Cas’s scent imprinted into Dean’s sheets. “Hilarious. I’m sure he doesn’t want…” Dean trails off, because even though Cas is still glaring at Jimmy, he’s blushing in the flickering light of the tv. And Dean’s feeling a little impulsive in the face of the reliable moon, so he says, “Cas? You kinda have to agree to that too.” 

Cas’s lips part but he doesn’t say anything for a long moment where Dean starts to panic that he was too forward. Finally: “I’m amenable to being test driven.” 

“For science,” Jimmy says, smirking as he climbs off Dean so Dean can sit up. 

“For science,” Dean repeats.

“For science,” Cas echoes, quieter, as he looks down to Dean’s lips. 

Dean kisses Cas, and Cas kisses back, and it’s more than nice. It’s the kind of kiss that’s easy to fall into, making everything else melt away except the two of them and Jimmy, whose hand is hot on Dean’s hip again, sliding under his shirt. It’s the kind of kiss that breaks slowly, staying close enough to share breaths after. 

“Nice?” Cas asks in a murmur.

“Better than nice.” 

“Jesus Christ,” Jimmy says. “Stop talking and do it again.” 

Dean looks over his shoulder. “Can you not see that we’re having a moment?” 

“What kind of moment are we having?” Cas says, a smile flirting across his mouth. 

“Not really sure yet, to be honest,” Dean says. “Maybe the kind where I get another test drive?”

“I can’t,” Cas says, and he even has the nerve to look regretful. “I’m sorry.” 

Dean flinches back like he’s been hit, accidentally shoving himself into Jimmy. “Obviously,” Dean says, scornful. “What was I thinking.” 

“Dean —” Jimmy starts, but Dean doesn’t stick around for the rest, stomping down the hall and shutting himself in his bedroom with a slam of the door. Fucking stupid. He hasn’t figured out how he got so lucky as to have Jimmy’s affections, but to think Cas might like him, too — _stupid._

Dean stops himself from punching a wall, but just barely, and instead paces in a few quick circles and then falls face-first into his bed. Even the memory foam is jarring to his aching muscles. 

After a moment of wallowing, Cas gives a soft tap to Dean’s door and says, “Dean?” 

“I get it, ok? Fuck off,” Dean says, mostly into his pillow. 

“May I come in?” 

“I _said_ fu—” Dean cuts himself off, takes a deep breath, and sits up. “Knock yourself out.” 

Cas steps in the bedroom, shutting the door behind him. His eyes sweep around Dean’s room, just briefly, then land on Dean, sullen in rumpled bedding. “I’m sorry.” 

“What are you sorry for? I’m the dumbass.” 

“Dean, I — Jimmy only said that because he knows how I — feel about you.” 

“And how do you _feel_ about me, Cas?” Dean says, snarling a little. 

“The same way Jimmy does.” A sad smile flits across Cas’s mouth. “And I know how much it would hurt to be a game to you.” 

“You’re not a game! People aren’t games, but especially not you, Jesus.” 

“Can I sit?” 

“Sure.” 

Cas sits on the edge of the bed, not looking at Dean. “I understand if it makes you uncomfortable that I’ve developed feelings for you. I have no intention of —” 

“Seriously? You couldn’t tell that I —” Dean cuts off, rubbing a hand over his face. “This probably isn’t the best time to talk about this. But I figured, you know. Jimmy was going to tell me to stop embarrassing myself at any minute.” 

Cas laughs, and it lights up his face in a way that makes Dean warm all over. “If it’s any consolation, Jimmy _did_ tell me to stop embarrassing myself.” 

Dean huffs and bumps his shoulder against Cas’s. “So…” 

“Another test drive?” 

Dean rolls his eyes but leans into Cas’s touch when Cas cups his cheek, then leans into his kiss when Cas’s mouth finds his. A short, smiling kiss. 

“So, uh,” Dean says. “Wanna go on a date with me?” 

Dean is the one who needs to impress, but Cas is even more overdressed than he is, in a casual blazer over a crisp button-up unbuttoned just enough to show off the sheen of scales on his chest. Dean gets caught staring a beat too long, until Jimmy smacks him on the shoulder and tells them to get out and leave him alone with his trashy tv. 

“It’s weird, right?” Dean says as he and Cas wait for appetizers at a too-fancy restaurant. “This is technically our first date, but — it’s not like we don’t know each other.” 

“We haven’t spent time together without Jimmy.” 

“That’s true,” Dean concedes, then holds up his glass. “Cheers to escaping Jimmy for an evening.” 

Cas grins and raises his glass. “Tmíímpúúb.”

“Goddammit, do you guys have a single word I can actually pronounce?” 

_“Tmíímpúúb,_ ” Cas repeats, slower, and then spends the meal trying to teach Dean how to passably pronounce at least one word in Meekiimle. 

“I’ve got it,” Dean says halfway through dessert. “Waatgiỳ.” 

Cas drops his face in his hand, laughing and laughing. “Has it occurred to you that we both speak English perfectly well?” 

“Shit, did I say something offensive?” 

“You said ‘orchard.’” 

“Well, fuck me sideways.” 

_“Now_ you’ve said something offensive.” 

“Sorry, darling. I’ll be more careful with my prepositions.” 

And Dean lets himself preen, just a little, because Cas is laughing again and it’s the best feeling in the world. 

Stupidly, Dean starts getting nervous as he walks Cas to the front door of his and Jimmy’s home. Before he can make a fool of himself, Cas says, “I told Jimmy to find something else to do because I wasn’t ready to share your attention again yet.” 

Laughing, Dean says, “How much do you think he’s pouting?” 

“Quite a bit, I imagine.” Cas’s smile softens, almost shy. “Would you like to come in?” 

“Yeah, o’course.” 

Dean follows Cas inside, but before he can pull his boots off in the entryway, Cas — cautiously — presses him up against the wall and kisses him. 

Cas doesn’t kiss exactly like Jimmy, but it’s clear they learned how to kiss with each other. It’s luxurious and patient and savoring all at once, except Cas also _claims_ in a way that leaves Dean weak in the knees. 

“I have another word to teach you,” Cas whispers in the space between them. 

“Yeah?” Dean manages to get out. 

“‘Tiq̀’ means ‘bed.’ Oyge o tiq̀ dì kii b’ai?”

“Not exactly sure what all that means, but if you’re askin’ to take me to bed, I’m saying yes.” 

“Good answer.” 

Cas steps back so they can both fumble out of their shoes, then grabs Dean’s hand and leads him into the house. 

Dean has been wrapped up in meetings all day, but when he finally gets to check his phone, it’s blinking with two voicemails from Jimmy. Bracing himself, Dean hits play on the first one. 

“Sorry, paan nyùùd — ugh, dì klee dawawg nìl paan mr̈in wuug bà wàp. Rekii, nyaakwe.” 

Dean frowns at the phone, then hits play on the second one, assuming it’s Jimmy saying the message wasn’t intended for Dean at all. 

“Shit, Cas pointed out my last message was in Meekiimle. Sorry, I’m a mess. Literally. I’m Deadpooling over here. Don’t come over, ok? I’ll talk to you later.” 

Frowning, Dean pulls up his text thread with Cas. 

**Dean:** Is J ok? He left me a voicemail in Meekiimle and told me not to come over 

**Cas:** I’m sorry about that. I shoved some painkillers down his throat so he would stop whining, so it’s probably my fault.  
**Cas:** He’s more embarrassed than I was about you seeing him during dawawg nìl.  
**Cas:** “Molting,” if you couldn’t guess.

 **Dean:** I figured that out but thanks for the translation. ;) I’m ordering some of those cakes he likes to be delivered. Unless you suggest something else? 

**Cas:** He would love that.  
**Cas:** I truly wish I were as kind-hearted as you. 

**Dean:** Stop being such a sap. Would he be pissed if I came over? I know I kinda shoved myself on you when you were getting your dawawg nìl on 

**Cas:** We shoved ourselves on you during the moon, which turned out rather well for me. I think he’d secretly love if you came over, though I won’t be held responsible if he forgets English. 

**Dean:** As long as you translate, we’re golden. See you after work 

**Cas:** Can’t wait :) 

Dean lets himself in without knocking, bag of miniature cakes in hand. Cas gives him a smile from the couch, where Jimmy is sleeping against his shoulder.

After visiting during Cas’s dawawg nìl, Dean is expecting to hardly recognize Jimmy through the burns, but Jimmy is dressed in a t-shirt and sweatpants and looks mostly like himself, if he’d managed to give himself a terrible blister-inducing sunburn. 

“Hey,” Dean says. “He looks better than I expected.” 

Cas grimaces. “Mine is usually worse, but he’s much whinier.” 

“That sounds about right.” 

“Fuck you,” Jimmy mumbles, then squints open his eyes. “Oh. You’re here.” 

“Don’t sound so excited,” Dean says. “I brought cake.” 

“Oooh,” Jimmy says, shrugging himself upright. “That’s awesome news.” 

Dean laughs and says, “I’ll grab forks. No need to get up, princess.” 

“Thanks,” Jimmy says, and gives Dean a smile like sunshine on opiates. 

When Dean returns from the kitchen, Jimmy and Cas are having a hissing argument in Meekiimle that ends as soon as they see Dean. 

“Uh,” Dean says, shifting awkwardly on his feet. “Maybe I should go?” 

“Sit down, dummy,” Jimmy says. “I assume Cas invited you.” 

“Yeah, but you could uninvite me,” Dean says, sitting down anyway and hanging out first forks, then miniature bundt cakes. Red velvet for him and Jimmy and lemon for Cas, because he’s a freak, which Jimmy points out just like he always does. 

Requisite taunting of Cas completed, Jimmy gives Dean another smile — smaller this time — and says, “Thanks for the cake.” 

“Any time, baby. How’re you feeling?” 

“Been better, but I’ve got both my handsome lads here, so I guess I can’t complain.” 

Cas rolls his eyes and Dean says, “But you will.” 

“Shut up,” Jimmy says, mouth full of frosting. 

“Manners, please,” Cas says, but he’s grinning in that open way he must always have with Jimmy, but only recently does with Dean, too. 

“So, uh,” Jimmy says, pausing in his sugar inhalation. “Did Cas happen to translate my voicemail?” 

Dean glances at Cas, who betrays nothing. “No. Was there something interesting other than ‘Deadpooling, don’t come over’?” 

“Nope,” Jimmy says, too quickly and refusing to meet Dean’s eyes. 

“You sure?” 

“Totally sure. Just nonsense.” 

“You seem to be doing fine with English now.” 

“Well, here you are in front of me, all hornless, so it’s easier to remember that dragon talk goes over your head.” Jimmy points at the bag with his fork. “There are more cakes in there for later, right?” 

“Baby, I’m a pretty ok boyfriend. Of course there’s more cake.” 

Jimmy grins, then grabs Dean by the side of the neck to pull him in for a kiss. Nothing hot, but full of affection that makes Dean’s heart flutter. Even though Jimmy doesn’t wince when he pulls back, Dean does after having a front-row seat to the burns along Jimmy’s cheekbones. 

“Seriously,” Dean murmurs. “Hurts?” 

Jimmy half-shrugs but says, “Yeah.” 

“Any way I can help, other than cake?” 

“Hardcore cuddling,” Jimmy says, grabbing Dean’s arm and pulling it around him, far rougher than Dean would have. “While I nap. Keep your voice down.” 

Dean shares a look with Cas over Jimmy’s head. “Bossy,” Dean says, earning himself a sharp pinch to the belly from Jimmy. 

Almost instantly, Jimmy is dozing. Cas lays his arm along the back of the couch to play with Dean’s hair while they watch Top Chef. 

In the morning, Dean sweats through a mostly-naked chef routine to make banana pancakes. Jimmy looks worse and refuses kisses. 

“It’s not even _real,”_ he groans. “It’s not like we’re shedding our skin like a fucking _snake.”_

“Your scales look a little peel-y,” Dean says, which is supposed to be lighthearted but earns him a glare. “Sorry.” 

“You should be. You got another boyfriend out of the full moon but what am I getting?” 

“Spoiled to death,” Cas says with an eyeroll. “Dean thinks banana pancakes are an abomination —” 

“Damn right.” 

“— but he’s still making them for you.” 

Jimmy groans again, full of melodrama. “I love both of you assholes, but you’re really testing my patience.” 

Dean’s heart stops, and when he looks over, Jimmy slaps a hand over his mouth. Through the prison bars of his fingers, he says, “I didn’t mean to say that.” 

“It’s cool,” Dean says, trying for a smile but probably failing, his chest crushed. “Charlie keeps almost telling random people she loves them on the phone.” 

“No, I —” Jimmy and Cas share looks, and the worst thing about dating people who have been mates forever — people with a mating bond at all — is how they can say things without words. Things Dean may never be able to understand. “Of course I love you. I just, you know, didn’t want to freak you out.” 

“Why would I freak out?” 

Jimmy shrugs. “I mean. We haven’t been seeing each other _that_ long. And I can tell you don’t believe me.” 

“Well.” Dean’s glad the pancakes need flipped so he doesn’t have to look at them. “You have Cas.” 

Jimmy circles the kitchen island to grab Dean and pull him into a tight embrace and a hard kiss, despite his inflamed skin. “I can love both of you, dumbass.” 

“So can I, for the record,” Cas says. 

“What I said in the stupid voicemail,” Jimmy says. “Rekii. It means that I — you know.” 

“Love me,” Dean says. 

“Yeah.” Jimmy gives Dean another kiss, softer this time. 

“How do I say it back? In Meekiimle?” 

“Um. ‘Tok rekii.’” 

“Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind for my next dragon boyfriend.” 

Jimmy smacks him in the arm. “Jesus, I hate you.” 

“That’s kinda too bad, because tok rekii,” Dean says, grinning. “Cas better keep his mouth shut if that was grammatically incorrect.” 

Arms slide around Dean’s middle from behind, and Cas drops a few kisses along the back of Dean’s neck. “You pronunciation could use some work.” 

“Be nice,” Dean says, unable to stop himself from leaning back into Cas’s solid warmth. 

“You like when I’m mean,” Cas murmurs against his ear, and Dean goes hot all over, thinking about the way Cas held his wrists to the bed while they fucked the night before. 

“That’s not fair,” Jimmy pouts. “You can’t be all sexy while I feel like shit.” 

“Go lay down,” Dean says, squeezing Jimmy’s hand. “We’ll bring breakfast when it’s ready.” 

Dean’s proud of himself for only burning a few pancakes, considering how difficult it is to cook with Cas whispering filthy promises the whole time, breath hot against Dean’s neck. 

**Dean:** You up? 

**Jimmy:** Yup tho Cas has banished me to my room so he can have Introvert Time 🙄 ugh what a loser 

**Cas:** Sometimes I’m not sure why I bother with you. 

**Dean:** I respect your introvert time but J can I come by?  
**Dean:** It’s been a long stupid day 

**Jimmy:** Ofc! Back door’s unlocked

 **Dean:** You really should get that fixed. 

**Jimmy:** I have Cas to protect me. See you soon 😘 

Dean uses his phone flashlight to keep from tromping through Cas’s flowerbeds as he slips through the back yard and across the porch. He manages to keep his voice down as he curses the door that sticks, just another thing that hasn’t gone quite right during this shitty day. 

“What did that door ever do to you?” Jimmy says, his smile only visible from the glow of his phone. His scales glint in the light, and sometimes Dean swears they shimmer on their own. 

“I’m fixing it this weekend,” Dean says. 

Jimmy laughs softly and says, “Get over here so I can hug you.” 

Dean drops on the couch and immediately burrows into Jimmy’s chest. “Hey there,” Jimmy murmurs, rubbing a hand up and down Dean’s back. “You ok?” 

“Better now,” Dean says, muffled against Jimmy’s hoodie. 

“Wanna go to bed? Cas said we could join him.” 

“I don’t want to bother him.” 

“He wouldn’t offer if he didn’t mean it, you dork. Come on.” 

Dean lets Jimmy pull him down the hallway to their shared bedroom, where Cas is lounged in bed in nothing but boxers and black-rimmed glasses, a book in his hand. Dean nearly salivates at the sight of him, an entirely different kind of sexy than Jimmy rumpled and wearing a pair of sleep pants covered in spaghetti and _send noods._ Which is really only sexy because Dean knows the way Jimmy’s skin shines underneath his clothes — and because Dean loves him. It’s still a startling idea, to love and be loved, but Dean’s getting used to it pretty quickly. 

“Hey,” Dean says, a little belated, and Cas gives him a smile, setting aside his book. 

“Hey yourself.” 

Jimmy squeezes Dean from behind, sliding a hand under his shirt to tug gently at the bottom of his binder. “Wanna get comfortable?” 

Dean leans back into Jimmy’s solid warmth for a moment, then slips into the bathroom. He strips down to his boxers, then steals one of Jimmy’s tees from the basket of clean laundry he never seems to actually put away. It’s soft and smells like their detergent and feels like home. 

Jimmy’s in bed when Dean leaves the bathroom, an empty space between him and Cas just big enough for Dean. Dean makes his way over Jimmy to lay between them, and suddenly he’s surrounded by them, Jimmy hugging him tight around the middle and Cas cradling his cheek and giving him a soft kiss. 

“Rough day?” Cas says. 

“Yeah.” Dean closes his eyes, burrowing into them with a deep sigh. He’s suddenly exhausted. “Ok if I just go to bed?” 

“Of course,” Jimmy and Cas say at the same time. Dean only sees Cas, but he assumes Jimmy rolls his eyes, too. “Is there anything else you need?” Cas asks. 

“I sing a mean lullaby,” Jimmy says, nuzzling into the side of Dean’s neck. 

“Let’s hear it,” Dean says. 

Jimmy’s not a great singer, and the song is in Meekimle so Dean has no idea what the lyrics are saying, but it’s still plenty effective and he’s out like a light, held close and safe. 

“...linna nynúújii…”

“...we could…”

“...never going to agree to…” 

“Pawi jii dèkka,” Jimmy whispers, loud enough that Dean finally comes to full consciousness, warm under Cas’s arm. 

“Whatcha talkin’ about,” Dean mumbles. 

“Good morning,” Jimmy says. “Cas and I were just — we love you. And your insurance sucks. So we thought maybe —”

“He’s going to ramble for ten minutes if we let him,” Cas says. “We’d like to cover your top surgery.” 

_“What?”_ Dean squeaks. 

“Look,” Jimmy says, “I can sacrifice buying more dumb shit for my horde for a little bit. You deserve it.” 

“There aren’t any caveats. It’s a gift.” 

“A stupid expensive gift,” Dean protests. 

Jimmy rolls his eyes. “If it makes you feel better, we can refuse to buy you any birthday or Christmas presents for the rest of our lives.” 

“Um,” Dean says, swallowing. “The rest of…?” 

“However long you’ll have one or both of us,” Cas clarifies. 

“Unrelated to the surgery thing,” Jimmy says, “you should be our mate.” 

“Your — mate.” 

“There’s no pressure and no rush,” Cas says. Dean looks over and Cas offers him a smile. Dean’s helpless to do anything but smile back. 

“How about this,” Dean says. “If you haven’t changed your mind in, I dunno, six months — I’ll think about it. The surgery thing, too.” 

“Sold,” Jimmy says, then he spits in his hand and holds it out to Dean. “Spit shake.” 

“Yeah, I caught that, but no thanks.” 

“Fine,” Jimmy says, wiping his hand on Cas’s shirt. “September 18, we’ll talk again.” 

True to his word, on September 18, Jimmy’s cornering Dean in the kitchen they all now share to ask if Dean has made a decision on either proposition, and within a year, Dean has fresh scars on his chest from surgery and fresh scars on his palms from mating rites. 

**Author's Note:**

> [sharkfish on tumblr](http://sharkfish.tumblr.com)
> 
> [rebloggable tumblr post](https://sharkfish.tumblr.com/post/640304434441846784/they-be-here-on-ao3-dcj-featuring-dragons-half)
> 
> i'm sorry i'm so terrible at answering comments, but please know that every single one is so precious to me and keeps me going on the rough days. <3 thank you for being here!!


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